Eternal Wings and the Lost Ocean
by Skyraptor66
Summary: A rewrite for funsies. All of the other games get them, right? T for language...mostly.
1. Blackbird

_Note: So I'll admit right off the bat that I took a few liberties, mostly with the Spirit's memory, since the excuse for the Spirit (a.k.a. the player) being new to the world of BK was that it supposedly lost our memory for spoilerish reasons. I wanted the Spirit in this story to have something of a relationship with Kalas, so I let him keep everything but the spoilers. Speaking of spoilers, though I've already explained in my last fic including him where Horatio's name comes from (_Hamlet_), I don't know if I should spoil it's significance quite yet. Maybe later._

_Also: yeah I know that you all know what Kalas looks like and what greythornes are and whatnot, but I began this thing as a bit of practice and therefore treated it like a novelization for people who may not know about the BK world yet._

"_SECOND WITCH: By the pricking of my thumbs,_

_Something wicked this way comes"_

_-From Shakespeare's _Macbeth

If the Soul could recall any aspect of its past self, the fact of its own existence without a body would have fascinated it. What can this mean? it might have asked. Are all things found in two parts like this—mind and body? I suppose Descartes was right. Hume would be pissed if he knew...among others, that is. But the Soul had long since forgotten that it once thrived on such questions, and, if the names Descartes and Hume drifted at all into its thoughts, it met them with confusion, and a heap of dust where a wall of memory had been. Instead, it did what required no memory or thought at all, which is to say it existed and floated there among the trees, beside orbs of red that, could it see itself, looked exactly like it.

Voices and footsteps crunching through the dry foliage caught its attention, sending a spark of alarm through its ethereal consciousness. With that single burst of thought, it moved without muscle, drifting towards the sound, guided by an invisible ear. It saw—though its past self would have puzzled over how it saw, given it had no eyes—a young man halt below it, accompanied by another being somewhere beyond its sight. Even in the dark, the Soul could make out the blue color of the man's hair and his odd clothing: a battered brown cape which blanketed his shoulders, a leather vest worn over a blue striped shirt with puffed shoulders, bracers of fur-lined cloth, and pants made from the hairy hide of some unknown animal. His tanned, handsome face peered up through uneven bangs pressed to his forehead with a decorative beaded rope. Fallen leaves crackled beneath leather sandals as he stepped back once to have a better view of the pulsing red Soul above him.

"That Spirit seems to like you," said the being the Soul could not see. "If you could bond with it something wonderful may happen to you." The voice sounded gleeful, almost ecstatic. "Are you ready?" it asked the man.

The blue-haired man was silent. After a moment he raised his arms towards the Soul as if to embrace it. Another spark of feeling exploded within the Soul-electric pangs of excitement and tenderness like that of a child experiencing its first kiss, paired with an unbearable loneliness that makes human throats ache with wordless painful emotion. Propelled by this, the Spirit dove into the man, searching for the beating thing that drew it inward. It found it within the man's core and wrapped itself around it. The man buckled under the weight of the being that now clung to him with a soft gasp, but quickly recovered as he straightened up. The Spirit could now see the piercing blue of the man's eyes, feel the gentle breaths pump from his lungs to his throat and taste the warm saliva pooling around his tongue. It was both within and without him—merged and divided as two beings that were also one.

"Uh, hello. Can I...may I ask your name?"

The Spirit remained quiet as more thoughts like rivers from the mouth of a mysterious spring gathered in its consciousness. A single word paused as it slid by, took root, then rose clearly in its mind.

_Horatio._

The Soul's voice materialized inside the man's ear. It sounded young and male, but with an almost feminine warmth and laced with subtle humor. As it heard itself speak for the first time, the Spirit began to understand itself, or rather himself.

"Horatio...so that's your name." The man grinned as another word solidified in the Spirit's mind, emanating blue to match the man's clothes and bright eyes.

Kalas.


	2. Before Destruction

Streams of thought fueling wheels of thought turning turning in the darkness. An old man and two brothers sitting at a table before a fire colorless and blurred like charred celluloid in a spinning wheeling reel of memories that aren't his. Another stream the same family watches as wings emerge from the back of one of the brothers one mechanical one feathered black as night as death as tainted nature posing proudly before his younger sibling hopping with childish glee the old man's wrinkles deepening with emotion love. The fire blossoming blooming engulfing the house shadowed cruel faces glaring through the flames at the cowering brothers dark anger exploding behind the blue eyes of the eldest like the black wing from his back. Now they limp into the forest of red orbs and fall collapsing on each other clinging for support as the smallest one dies there wrapped in a pair of shaking arms. Where the old wheels stop new ones begin turning. The mind empties then refills like the tides of an ocean.

In a watery void, hatred and loneliness stir waiting in silence as the worlds revolve like ancient gods gathering wheels of vacant thoughts. A voice speaks and the void trembles, rippling.

White feathers explode into flame against a waxen sun.


	3. Birds of a Feather

Kalas awoke to the feel of a strange bed against his back. He groaned and opened his eyes to gaze at the wooden planks of the roof stretched over his head. Rays of sunlight streamed through the windows to land on his face. "Where am I?" he mumbled to no one in particular.

He sat up. A painful throb collided like a rock against his skull. Horatio watched as he gripped his head and moaned, and then glanced around.

Red curtains framed both beds in a mild effort to make the shack presentable amid the grotesque surgical devices and yellowed anatomical diagrams that hung from the walls. The flower-patterns on the curtains suggested that one of the occupants might be female. Basic farming implements lay propped against the wall near a rough workbench.

_ Kalas, what...?_

"Ah, I see you've awakened. How do you feel?"

An older man in plain white farmer's garb appeared, stroking his graying beard as he squinted down at Kalas from either side of his dark, knife-like face. He reached for a cup of tea on a nearby stove and handed it to the younger man.

Kalas eyed him warily, ignoring the tea. Two years on the road had further hardened the distrust he always felt for new faces, though it had failed to teach him to be more calculating with his words.

"Who are you? Why am I here?" he snapped. The headache made him annoyed.

The old man seemed unperturbed; he smiled slightly.

"My name is Larikush. I'm the village doctor here in Cebalrai. They found you lying unconscious in the woods nearby and brought you here."

Kalas's glare swiftly vanished as his eyes widened in remembrance. Touches of red flushed at the corners of his cheeks. "Oh yeah, I remember now...I was attacked by Rock Cats..."

His stilted voice might have betrayed a lie were his embarrassment not already obvious. Rock Cats were lithe, hairy creatures of medium height—about the size of the Bunnycats to whom their species was related. Like the Bunnycats, their deceptively sharp teeth were meant to cut bamboo stalks instead of flesh, and, though mating season tended to make them more territorial than usual, violent behavior was rare and as nonlethal as an angry pigeon.

Kalas buried his face in one hand. "Oh man...how stupid of me."

"You're lucky they were only Rock Cats. They are herbivores after all..." Larikush held back a chuckle. "It's awfully strange to hear of them attacking humans."

Kalas's blush reached his ears. The doctor granted him some mercy by turning away.

"The animals in that forest have been acting peculiar lately," he said with a shrug. "I'm not sure why, but they're much more aggressive than they used to be. You'd better stay away from those woods."

A thought struck him. He faced Kalas with another amiable smile. "By the way, what do you call yourself? I don't recall seeing you around these parts."

"My name's Kalas." the younger man replied, after deciding that the doctor was trustworthy enough. "This is my first time here, which is why I got lost, I guess."

"Kalas is it?" Larikush paused in thought. His gaze seemed to drift into some distantly remembered past.

"Hey, Doc. You all right?"

Larikush's eyes cleared as he regained himself. "Oh, yes. Sorry. Hearing your name, I'm sure I knew a Kalas once, but I can't quite recall if that's true."

"Maybe not. I've never met anyone else with the same name as mine. I guess it's not very common."

"Indeed." Larikush paused again. "Well, welcome to Cebalrai Village, boy." he said finally. "It looks like you took quite a blow to the head, so I was afraid you might have amnesia, but you seem to be fine. If you feel up to it, you're welcome to take a look around the village. We're only a small farming village on the frontier, so I'm afraid there isn't much to see." Larikush gestured at a metallic object lying on a table across from Kalas. "By the way, I left your winglet over there by the window. Quite an unusual design for a winglet... different from the ones used in the Empire..." His voice trailed off into a hesitant mutter, his expression once again misty.

"It was handcrafted by my grandfather." Kalas said with some pride. "He was an excellent engineer." Normally, he handled the subject of his winglet with caution, in case someone suspected him of being an Imperial or, worse, found out about his single wing, but Larikush regarded it with an air of unassuming nonchalance that set him at ease.

"Ah, I see. Your grandfather...very impressive. And how is he doing...?"

"He died...two years ago." Kalas's face was guarded and practiced against the ensuing emotions. More than anything, he did not want this man to pity him, to give him sympathy for the loss of one of the few lives he had ever cared about. What did anyone know of what he had experienced that night?

"Is that so...I'm sorry to hear that." Larikush replied in a ritual monotone which suited Kalas just fine.

Shrugging off the topic, Kalas stood up from the bed and stretched his stiff back. The headache had finally faded leaving him with an antsy feeling, eager to move on. "Well, thanks for the help, Doc. I owe you one."

"Actually, I'm not the one you should be thanking. Meemai is the one who found you in the woods and carried you here."

"I see. Meemai, is it?"

Larikush gave him a polite nod of dismissal and wandered over to the workbench where a series of medical diagrams lay. Kalas waited until he had engrossed himself in his work before heading over to the single winglet on the bench. Slick silver in color, the opalescent beauty of its folded state paled in comparison to its technical magnificence when unfurled. Glass primary feathers curled at the tips like claws, thick metal stems attached to circular joints by some invisible magnetic force. In spite of its light, almost skeletal design, it could lift Kalas off the ground with ease to match its black feathered counterpart. Kalas clipped it in place behind his left shoulder and threw his cape over it. Although he admired his grandfather's craftsmanship, he disliked drawing attention to the single winglet.

Once he had finished, Kalas looked upward into empty space. Horatio was invisible to him, but he had always assumed that the Spirit was right above his head.

_How're you holding out, Kal?_

"I'm fine. Let's get going."

_Rock Cats, huh?_

"Shaddup."

Kalas glanced over at Larikush, but the doctor gave no indication that he had heard him speak.

_Let's talk outside._

Kalas nodded and promptly slipped out the door. Cebalrai might have been a poor backwoods town, but the colorful vegetation lit by bright sunlight made it anything but ugly. Tall pink bushes of bladed leaves flanked the thatch houses while orange flowers and greenery spilled over the makeshift wooden gate. A large flock of Fantails squabbled over grain tossed by a little girl just beyond the door.

Visible over the treetops was Nunki Valley, crowned at its peak with a glistening white nautilus: Lord Rodolfo's mansion in the nation's capital of Perkhad.

_Nice place._

"Don't get too comfy—we've got more important things to do, remember?"

_Actually, I've been meaning to ask you: what did happen back there with the Rock Cats and all? I don't remember a damn thing._

Kalas looked slightly alarmed. "Are you sure? Maybe when I hit my head, you were the one who got amnesia."

_Maybe. I dunno. It's a bit weird._

"You'll be okay. You've had some problems like that before, haven't you?"

_Yeah, but...Ah, whatever. _

"Maybe I should be grateful you don't remember...with a blunder like that." Kalas smirked.

_Really, Kal? Rock Cats?If I had hands I might smack you for that one. How're you supposed to handle...you know...if a bunch of vegetarian felines are all it takes to knock you out cold?_

"Hmph, well I've got you, don't I?"

_And a fat lot of help I've been._

"C'mon, you're not that useless. You have a good singing voice."

The Spirit grumbled.

"How did the one about the levee go again? Where'd you hear that anyway?"

_Fine, I'll stop giving you shit about the Rock Cats. Just drop it._

Kalas's satisfied grin seeped away as he noticed one of the locals staring at him, brow furrowed, from beside the girl feeding the fantails. Damn, had he caught him talking to his Guardian Spirit? Just what he needed: to be treated like an even bigger nutjob—the guy who got his butt kicked by Rock Cats _and_ talks to himself.

But the man wasn't looking at him—not directly at him, anyway. He followed the man's gaze to his upper back, where an upstart breeze had tossed up his cloak, exposing the winglet on his shoulder. Crap.

Kalas pretended to spot someone near the village entrance and swiftly dodged the man who had started toward him. Fortunately, there was a boy standing with a blue greythorne at the exact spot he had chosen, and he approached them with the strongest air of friendly interest he could muster. Greythornes were small rubbery animals with legless, rounded bodies that could shrink or grow at will. They moved by literally bouncing across the terrain, their front flippers flapping wildly to propel them into the air. This particular creature gazed up at Kalas with beady black eyes as he approached, its white jaw curled in a permanent smile.

"Hey, you're the guy Meemai saved, right?" the boy asked. His greenish hair and pale burlap tunic billowed in the sudden updraft as he scrutinized the young man who towered above him with a critical gaze. The greythorne at his side squeaked happily upon hearing its name.

Kalas balked in surprise. "Whoa, is this him...her...Meemai? Is this who brought me here?"

_Considering the number of knocks your dignity has taken of late, probably._

Kalas was forced to keep a straight face as the boy continued to watch him.

"Uh-huh. Meemai's really cool," said the boy, breaking into a small smile. "He's way smarter than all the drunks you see around here and helpful too."

One of the villagers stopped to give the boy a reproachful look from behind his back, but kept her mouth shut and continued on when she spotted Kalas.

"I see," Kalas said as if nothing had happened. His smile became strained as he bent down to address the greythorne. "Well, thanks Meemai. I owe you one."

Meemai squeaked once in response—a piercing yet pleasing noise, like air being squeezed out of a rubber duck. Horatio stifled a chuckle. A feminine voice giggled in his place. The spirit shifted his line of sight in surprise.

A blonde girl who had, up till now, been watching them from afar caught Horatio's attention. It was obvious from her bright clothes that she was foreigner: she wore comfortable pink pants and a blouse over form-fitting underclothes made from red wool, all tied about the waist with a colorful sash into the back of which she had tucked the straps of a small pack. White gloves, to match her fluffy hood, and numerous bracelets indicated she was a magician of some sort—most magic users preferring to keep their hands, through which their powers emanated, covered while practicing. Her face, however, was pale and delicate against the fashion of an experienced traveler; Kalas's own skin, while never particularly light to begin with, had darkened after two years of wind and harsh sun beating against it on the road. Her features, however, suited the calm and gentle air she projected through glistening golden eyes framed by her short, flax-colored hair.

_Hey, Kal. I think she likes you._

Kalas straightened up and glanced around until his eyes met hers. She smiled warmly at him. Almost mechanically, he took a step towards her.

"Are you a traveler, too?" she asked. Her voice was as soft as her face.

Kalas nodded, taken aback by her friendliness and audacity, but still wary.

_Say something to the pretty lady, man. She's a girl, not a talking pow._

The girl's face trembled as if holding back a laugh. Kalas blushed. There's no way she could've heard his Spirit. Was she laughing at him?

She seemed to notice his unease, for she quickly added, "I came to see the ancient ruins in the woods near here. How about you?"

Horatio guessed that Kalas had decided to be nice—his reply began amiably enough. "Me? Well, I..."

Just then, two men appeared from the path just outside the village. Like the girl, they too were dressed in strange clothes—orange and blue soldier's uniforms. Both carried sabers at their sides, the sheaths rattling against their belts. Immediately, one of them spotted the girl and waved to her. He strode over to the pair and, casting a cautious look at Kalas, bent down to whisper something in her ear. She nodded in reply.

"I have to go..." she said to Kalas and then made her way over to the boy and Meemai. "Bye, little guy. See ya, Meemai." The greythorne tilted its bulbous head up to nuzzle the palm of her hand as she bent over it. The boy, annoyed by Meemai's display of favoritism, scowled at her as she left, flanked by the two men.

"I have a name ya know! C E D R. Cedr!...Buncha crazies...Why bother going all the way down there to see some crappy old ruins?"

"Cedr! Language!" snapped the villager from before, who had been circling the scene from a distance.

"Sorry, Mom...Anyway, nobody in this village will go near those woods. Say it's cursed or somethin'." The boy shrugged, folding his hands behind his head.

"That's the way it usually is with you folks, isn't it?" Kalas muttered just loud enough for the boy to hear.

"I hope they don't get jumped by wild animals out there." Cedr continued, tone laced with sudden malice. "Y'know, like someone else did..."

_Screw you too, kid._

"Yeah, really." Kalas replied. Cedr smirked as if this idiot's words were meant for him. "Ancient ruins in Moonguile Forest, eh? Why don't we go have a look ourselves?"

"What? Me go with you? You're nuts!"

Kalas glared at the boy. "Not you, kid. I mean...ah, nevermind."

Cedr scowled back and, gathering Meemai into his arms, trudged away. "Freak..." he murmured.

"Brat..."

Horatio laughed. _Sure, why not? Maybe you'll get another shot at having a date for once._

"What are you talking about?"

_She was cute, I thought. And she liked you right away, so there's one hurdle cleared. C'mon, I know you had a thing for her._

"What? Heck no. She probably doesn't even know what she's doing. What kind of maniac just walks up to strangers and starts acting friendly?"

_It's called small talk. Normal people do it sometimes. And don't get defensive—I just thought it might be good for you to have someone besides me to interact with for an extended period of time, even better if it's a nice girl. Don't want you to get too used to talking to thin air—or worse, thin air with a sarcastic sense of humor._

"It's okay, bud, I get it. But you know I can't do that, right? Not if I want to catch up with Gaicomo and his goons anytime soon."

_Yeah..._The Spirit sounded hesitant to give up on the conversation.

Kalas ignored him as he adjusted his cape, and then started for the path leading outside the village. "C'mon, let's see what kinds of goodies we can dig up at those ruins."


	4. No One Loves Me and Neither Do I

Moonguile Forest lay about a mile from Cebalrai at the end of a dirt trail overgrown with weeds and anthills. The trees dripping with moss formed a crooked threshold that oozed mist and oily sunlight. Even the ground, made jagged by protruding roots, seemed to pose as a gaping maw, would be repulsive were it not for the palpable allure of the dark haze, as if appealing to that feral side for which every human being secretly longs.

"The villagers seem to have a fear of this place, but I think they're making a big deal out of nothing." Kalas said to his Guardian Spirit. "Mere superstition I tell you..."

_I suppose so. Just be careful, alright?_

"Don't worry, buddy. You won't catch me off guard this time."

_Just make sure you're running on brains and not testosterone this time, Kal._

Amid the blanketing canopy, large bat-like reptiles swooped about, ravaging bird nests with their long stingers. Kalas drew his sword and softened his step, the moss muffling the tread of his sandals. Up ahead, the trees opened up into a bright, grassy clearing littered with crumbling stone pillars, their markings long since worn away by wind and rain. Beyond the pillars lay a shallow river. A glowering Unuk lifted its toothy, serpentine head to peer at Kalas from the other bank, then crept away into the bush with a low growl.

"That was lucky. Not that I couldn't have taken it on, of course, but it saves me some effort."

_Mmm hmm..._

Kalas stopped and looked questionably at the sky. "What's up with you lately? Ever since we ran into that girl you've been acting strange."

_If I told you, you might be mad at me._

"Try me."

_The girl got me thinking..._

"Don't tell me you're still going on about me asking her for a date?"

_Kinda. It's not so much that as...Well, suppose we never catch up to Gaicomo. Suppose you're wasting your time chasing revenge, and so you never learn to actually live your life? _

"So I'm wasting my time in trying to get back at the man who killed Gramps and Fee?" Kalas's voice became edged and bitter.

_I mean...damn, how do I say this? Even if you do defeat Gaicomo, avenge your brother and Gramps and all that, what're you going to do with yourself afterward even then? Do you think they'd _want_ you to run around chasing death, his or yours?_

"If it weren't for that, I wouldn't have summoned you in the first place, Horatio," Kalas snapped. "Do you want me to leave you and go settle down to milk pows with some stupid girl? Is that it? It's not like I wanted them to die so I could fly all over the five nations tracking their murderer."

_You know that's not what I mean. I want you to be happy, Kalas, as hokey as that seems._

"You know what'll make me happy? To have my family back. But since that isn't happening anytime soon, I'll settle for killing the bastard who took them from me in the first place."

_I'm not trying to make you forget about the past, okay? You just need a future too, and for all you know, some girl you just happen to meet could be it. _

"Look, if you really wanna make me happy now, then shut up. The only one wasting time right now is you."

Whatever Horatio said in reply, it drowned in the guttural roar that burst from the dense trees on the other side of the river. The single Unuk fled from its hiding place, dashing straight past Kalas into the thicket behind him as the flying reptiles scattered into the sky.

"What the hell was that?" The question was merely a gut reaction, however: Kalas knew a Sabre Dragon when he heard one. Huge and parrot faced, a Sabre could stomp the guts out of any creature that crossed its path, or fry it with the plumes of flame that sparked around its interlocking canines like flecks of spittle. The same deadly fangs would rake in a healthy mound of cash at the market, but slain Sabres were hard to come by, even by accident.

Adrenaline shot through Kalas's legs as a scream echoed after the Sabre roar—no doubt the girl and her friends had stumbled upon its den during feeding hours. Before he could think on it, he was splashing across the river and racing into the bushes at full speed. His wings emerged in his excitement, and he shot into the air, sword in hand, just in time to spot the dragon as it crushed two blue and orange shapes beneath its paws.

_Oh crap! Where's the girl? Find the girl!_

"I'm looking!"

The beast turned its head to snarl at a figure in pink clothing clutching a golden wand between her gloved hands. Immediately, Kalas swooped down and drove his blade into the Sabre Dragon's eye. It screeched in pain, fire erupting from its nostrils. Kalas's wings gave out just before he hit the ground, landing beside the startled girl.

"It's you!" she managed to gasp—more surprised than relieved.

Kalas threw her a wry smirk before leaping at the monster again. He aimed for the notch of soft mottled flesh where the skull joined the neck, but the Sabre, hearing the rush of his wings, knocked him aside with its snout.

"Water burst!"

A stream of water materialized out of thin air and forced its way down the Sabre's mouth, choking it and dousing the flames. Kalas glanced behind him as he struggled with landing to see the girl had taken flight as well, her wings pinkish and delicate, lined with thin veins like those of a dragonfly. She swung the wand forward as she cast two more spells to drown the Sabre, which bent its head to hack the liquid out of its lungs.

Kalas smirked. Not bad. He drew a deck of cards out of his pockets—Magnus: magical devices crafted by the powerful sorcerers of ancient times which could store the essence of any object for it to be summoned intact from the depths of the card later. Kalas rifled through the deck until he found what he was looking for; a blade infused with water magic, perfect for killing a creature whose insides were filled with fire. He pressed his thumb against the image of the sword and in a brief flash of light it materialized in his hand.

He leaped into the air again, diving once more for the soft spot behind the Sabre's head. The sword hit home, smoke billowing out of the pierced flesh as the Sabre gave a final cough and fell forward.

As he furled his wings, Kalas turned back to the girl. Now grounded and wingless as well, she stared at him with wide eyes, her face suddenly wet with tears.

"I...I'm so sorry...It must've been sleeping because it took us by surprise and...Oh god..."

She veered away from him to look for the remains of her friends. Sticky blood and pieces of bone had seeped through their clothing to pool in the dirt beneath their shattered corpses. The man in orange still clutched the hilt of his saber as if to draw it from its sheath.

The girl stood hunched over them, sobbing quietly. "Gram...Leon...Oh god, I'm so sorry..." Her voice drifted away, repeating the apology again and again, just above a whisper. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...so sorry..."

Kalas felt a twinge of sympathy and recognition as he watched her. He'd said those words once, though it hadn't been his fault, just like it wasn't the girl's fault either. But then he remembered the conversation he and Horatio had shared earlier—about abandoning his mission for this same girl, about moving on, about _happiness_. What did he know? What did anyone know?

Forget Horatio. Forget the girl.

The girl hardly acknowledged Kalas as he brushed past. She looked up, her vision blurred by tears, as he knelt over the corpses of her friends and began rooting through their pockets. He broke into a smirk as his fingers caught hold of a pack of Magnus in the first one's knapsack.

"My oh my, look at what we have here." He shuffled through the pack, glancing at each card. Mountain apple. Fire sword. Cheese. Water. "These could come in handy."

_Damn it, Kalas. Lay off her, for god's sake._

The girl's mouth dropped open in horror. "Hey!...You're...You're stealing their things? They were my friends...!"

She balked as Kalas turned his sardonic grin on her, tilting his face upward so that the Spirit would know that it was meant for him too. "_Were_ your friends. These won't be doing them much good now. We gotta do what we can to survive, right? After all," he clapped a hand on one of the corpses' shoulders, "I don't hear them complaining. Besides, I'm not stripping them bare. I only take what I need."

He pulled several cards from the two decks and tossed them to the girl. "Catch!"

The girl snatched them clumsily from the air and then gazed at each one. He had given her the valuable ones-a silver pendant with a tiny portrait of Gram's wife inside and Leon's gold bracelet, stuff Kalas figured she could hock for a pretty penny to get her through the month. But they were on different pages of the same book.

"You...you want me to give these items to their families to help them remember...is that it?" She managed a small smile of understanding and relief as she wiped the back of her glove across her eyes to dry her tears. "You know, I...maybe I..."

Kalas avoided her gaze and pretended to rifle through the Magnus once more. He didn't hate her. Not really. But he couldn't show her too much sympathy either, then she'd never leave and Giacomo would slip away from him again. Though he had to admit, she was pretty handy with magic...

"That's your share of the loot. Enough to shut you up, I hope," he growled.

The girl's soft expression melted. Her face flushed red with anger. "...What! How could you be so..." she struggled for words to express her disbelief. "I...I won't accept good stolen from my friends! How insulting to the dead!"

Kalas shrugged. Fine. He didn't have to help her out before, and if she was going to hate him why bother helping her now? He rose and began to walk away.

"Hey! Wait...don't go."

The apologetic tone in the girl's voice caught him off guard. He stopped and looked at her expectantly.

The girl blushed under his gaze, surprised that he had bothered to listen. "I...um...thank you for saving me." When he remained still, she continued on. "My name is Xelha. I'm glad you came when you did."

Kalas's face barely twitched. "I didn't fight that thing to save you, Xelha. A Sabre Dragon's fangs will fetch me a juicy sum. End of story."

_You're an ass._

Kalas glanced upward at the sound of Horatio's voice. He felt worn out and tired—tired of being a jerk and tired of being nagged for it. Without another word, he trotted over to the Sabre's corpse.

"Um...You're from Mira...the City of Illusion...aren't you?" Xelha asked.

Kalas spun around. "How could you tell?" Though he had lived in Mira for as long as he could remember, he had never adopted the accent, nor did he look particularly Miran. In fact, many people asked him if he came from Sadal Suud or the Empire. And speaking of accents, Xelha had a distinct one that, as of yet, he hadn't been able to place...

Xelha broke into another small smile. "Because you have a Guardian Spirit with you. I knew as soon as I saw you. It's said that only the people of Mira can summon Guardian Spirits to this world."

_Well, damn. She's good._

"You seem to know a lot about Guardian Spirits." The suspicion in Kalas's tone was apparent.

Xelha cocked her head as if recalling something, like an inquisitive dove. The gesture evoked faint memories in the back of Kalas's head, and he felt a sudden warmth. It took him a moment before he realized that his little brother had often done the same thing, blond hair falling over his thoughtful blue eyes.

"In ancient times, at the threshold between this world and another..." Xelha recited, "Souls from both worlds would meet, their fates entwined. The visiting Soul would become a Guardian Spirit, yet few were able to hear a Spirit's voice, and those bonded with a Spirit would receive great knowledge and power."

_Knowledge..._

"But I'm surprised," she continued, "I thought that was just a legend. Some old tale passed around in fireside chats."

_But how do you know I'm here?_

"Well, there's no way of telling if someone really has a guardian," Kalas replied. "I wouldn't blame anyone if they thought we were just hallucinating or something. Right, Horatio?"

_I wouldn't be that certain of your mental health, but sure._

Xelha jumped. "Huh? Was that voice your guardian? I thought I heard a faint voice...in my mind."

Kalas gaped at her. "You mean you heard Horatio's voice?"

"I did. Just barely, though." She looked upward just as Kalas often did and smiled. "So, your name is Horatio. I'm Xelha. Nice to meet you."

_Pleasure to meet you too, luv. Sorry about blue boy. His redeeming qualities are few and far between, but it's better than nothing._

Kalas shot an annoyed look at the sky. Xelha giggled. "Your voice tickles me. It feels a bit strange, but not in a bad way."

_Hey Kal, can we keep her? Please?_

"No. And besides, she probably has somewhere else she needs to be."

Xelha's expression grew serious. "Actually, I'm headed towards the ancient ruins deep in the forest. What about you two?"

"We're headed the same way." A pause.

_Please?_

Kalas sighed. "You want to go together?"

"If you don't mind." Xelha replied hesitantly. "But before we leave, could you spare me a minute?"

Kalas waited in silence as Xelha returned to Gram and Leon's bodies. She hunched over them, clasping her hands together against her chest. "Though it pains me to leave you here, my mission cannot wait," she murmured. "Gram...Leon...Thank you for everything."

She fell quiet; then she made a strange cross-like gesture in the air above the bodies. "Cast light upon the darkened earth. Save those lost in despair. O Mighty Ocean guide us as we journey through the darkest pit of night..." Again he voice trailed away, thick with emotion. She took a moment to gather herself and returned to Kalas with a solemn tread.

"What were you...?" He stared. The prayer was new to him, even as a traveler, as was nearly everything about her now that he thought of it.

Xelha's red-rimmed eyes met his with a determined gaze. "Kalas, Horatio, we should be going."


	5. On Your Wings

_Note: In regards to complaints about the language Kalas and Horatio use, I'd like to mention that I do plan to tone it down a little, especially on Kalas's part as Fan Fan pointed out that he doesn't often swear in the game (thanks in part to the T rating) and I'd hate to deviate from his character in a way that feels distracting. Horatio's foul mouth is too much a part of his character for me to change, however, but after The-Spoiler-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named he will stifle it somewhat in order to be more gentlemanly-like toward his new companion. As I explained to some of you, I happen to be nineteen myself and in college, so when I write the dialog between the characters I think in terms of how the guys I know often speak (I would say sans the derogatory gay jokes, but considering UNC Asheville's small student body is at least a third homosexual, those are few as it is). It occurs to me that the kind of speech my friends and I consider funny and endearing may be offensive to others, no matter how realistic, and so I apologize if anyone was bothered by it. _

_It also occurs to me after writing this chapter that action sequences are harder than they look. Extended battles aren't my forte, as the genre I spend most of my time dealing with (horror) usually has short but gory as hell confrontations rather than long duels a la most fantasy RPGs. Here I at least have the excuse of the bosses being easy at this point, but I still have to try my best to not make the descriptions as graphic._

Kalas followed Xelha as she led him towards the heart of Moonguile Forest. For a seemingly naïve girl, she held herself with confidence, ambling over foliage at a rapid pace regardless of spiders and thorns. She seemed to know where she was going, too, as if she were a Fluffpup loping after a familiar scent on the wind.

"Hey, Xelha." Kalas called. "If you don't mind me asking, what exactly are you after back here? Is there some kind of treasure stashed in those ruins that I don't know about?"

Xelha paused as she pushed a leafy bough aside and peered over her shoulder at him. Looking straight into her gaze, her eyes always seemed especially clear. "Something like that."

"So if I help you find it, do you think I could have a share?" he asked. "Besides, I saved you, didn't I?"

"It's not that kind of treasure. And anyways you have that nice set of Sabre fangs to pawn when we come back, don't you?" she replied nonchalantly.

_I think that was a dig. Serves you right._

Kalas kept quiet. The more time he spent with this strange girl, the more she surprised him. She looked well-off, gentle—the kind who grow up in a cushy home with decent schooling—and yet she had this hidden bite to her. Not to mention the fact that he still couldn't place where she had come from; she had refrained from mentioning anything, even though she seemed to know more than enough about him. It was almost unfair.

They came to another clearing, this time filled with more ruins, many of which were upright and intact; all that was left of a town from eons long past. Kalas left Xelha's side to stand beneath one of the rectangular archways. He rested his hand on the smooth limestone, feeling the stray grains rasp against his palm.

"So where is it?" he asked, examining the stones. "These are the ruins we want, aren't they? Is it it buried somewhere?"

"No, actually." Xelha said as she climbed over a fallen pillar. "The place I'm looking for is a little further up ahead. These ruins just mean we're close. There's a spring that drains out of a small cliff somewhere in the forest beyond here."

"A spring? Who hides their valuables at a spring?"

"It's sacred. They say the ancient tribes used to conduct rituals there."

_You do your homework, don't you Xel?_

"It's too weird," muttered Kalas as Xelha wandered ahead. "I wonder what she's up to?"

_I dunno. Could be nothing special, but she mentioned a mission or something didn't she?_

"Yeah. Well whatever it is, we should try to avoid getting tied up in it—just secure the loot and get the hell out."

_Aww...and I was starting to like her too._

"Like her?" Kalas hissed, "We hardly know her. And haven't you noticed that weird accent of hers?"

_Does she have one? I'm still not used to listening for those. Accents are too subtle for me._

"She tries to sound Alfardian sometimes, but you can tell it's a fake. You should know—we spent half a year there. She sounds like...I don't even know, but it's obvious she's trying to hide it."

_She seems like a good person to me though. I mean, she doesn't seem to mind that wing of yours._

"Kalas? Are you coming?" Xelha stood atop a small hill with a path leading off into the trees. She looked down at him expectantly.

"Yeah, yeah. Hold on a minute."

She waited while Kalas jogged up to meet her. He quickly searched her face for any sign that she had heard him talking to Horatio. Even with the distance between them, he felt somewhat cautious.

"It's just over here," she told him with an assuring smile before heading down the path.

The trees appeared to be more beautiful in this part of the forest, bright shades of blue and green engulfing the brown in celestial radiance. A wall of stone appeared before them, water flowing out of a crack in its surface and into a glassy pond. Xelha halted at its edge.

Kalas trotted up beside her. "Is this the place?"

Before Xelha could reply, a ray of magenta light shot out from the crystal pendant clasped below her throat. With a piercing ring, it landed on the surface of the water before fading out.

"What is it?" Kalas leaped forward as Xelha gasped.

The grass beneath their feet faded into blackness, its surface spattered with stars and the white disc of the moon. The ground trembled as the spring swirled and grew into a whirlpool, soaking the false night sky and the two alarmed humans with scalding water. Xelha managed to grab hold of Kalas, throwing her arms about his waist, as a column of spray erupted from the pool, knocking them both to the ground. The hot water filled Kalas's lungs and rushed up his nostrils. Icy panic spread through his gut as he began to drown, the roaring liquid so deafening that he failed to hear Xelha's cry of "Wind blow!" as she held him tight to keep his body from being dashed against the trees.

Another roar, and the water surrounding them flew into the air, tossed by the summoned winds. Kalas writhed and coughed on the damp grass. Xelha still clung to him with one arm as she thumped her other hand against his back.

_Breathe, Kal! Damn, what the hell was that? It came right outta nowhere!_

"Kalas! Kalas, are you alright? Say something!"

"Damn it..." Kalas croaked. "What happened?"

Xelha quickly rose and helped him to his feet. "No time for that, I think."

They both looked up. Out of the calmed waters reared a serpent whose tentacled head rose above the forest canopy. Branching horns protruded from its temples in a crown above its massive jaws, and out of its smooth brow gazed a pair of eerily sentient blue eyes. Its tail churned the water around it, sending waves lapping around Kalas and Xelha's feet.

"You come at last, woe-laden child... To the depths of Malpercio's realm." it intoned, its eyes fixed on Kalas. The pair balked as they heard it speak. Xelha cast a fearful glance at Kalas.

"Prepare yourself!" the serpent roared. It made to lunge for Kalas who leaped out of range, wings materializing as he went. To his right, Xelha was already aloft preparing a spell. The young woman seemed all too prepared for this battle.

The serpent hissed as a flare of light magic struck its face and blinded it. Kalas readied a sword and sprang at its head. Its flesh seemed to be made of steel as the blade bounced uselessly off its snout. The serpent soon regained itself, and Kalas was forced to retreat.

_Try its throat. Maybe its softer than the-_

Xelha called to him. "Kalas, get out of the way!"

An explosion of flame seared past his ear as he landed. It engulfed the shrieking serpent, singing it and causing the water around it to boil once more.

The serpent collapsed, writhing in the grass and dirt which dirtied its blackened scales. It glared at Xelha.

"You...You have no idea what you have done, child. But I am not the last, and my brethren will not be so easy for you to overcome."

Xelha dodged its jaws as it lashed out clumsily. It bashed against the trunk of a tree and lay still as its blood mingled with the spring water.

"The time has come." It rumbled with its final breaths. "The gate to Ar is opening. Behold the blessing of Malpercio..."

The serpent's body disintegrated into a golden light, out of which appeared a small, rectangular shape—a magnus. It hovered before Kalas's eyes, calling to him with its heat, beauty, and a power that both terrified and compelled him. His skull ached as his pupils shrank from its brightness and his knees trembled as his wing reemerged of its own accord.

"What is this...?" He murmured to no one. He reached out and grasped it, mildly surprised when it didn't vanish between his fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Xelha reach toward him as if in warning, but the ground suddenly began to shake. Kalas tore his eyes away from the magnus as millions of golden birds sprang from the pond and took flight, disappearing into the sky.

(_Somewhere, a voice echoes across a void. The worlds shudder in their revolutions, displaced in their ancient orbits._

_The gate to Ar has been opened. Stars, be prepared...for the song of destruction..._)

Xelha's eyes widened. "Stop it!" she cried through the rustling clamor of wind and wing.

Shocked by the force in her voice, Kalas dropped the shining magnus. The birds and chaos disappeared in an instant.

Xelha looked hard at Kalas, her gaze wary. Her soft face was etched with suspicion and controlled terror. "Who...or what are you? Malpercio is the name of a cursed evil god from ancient times!"

Kalas threw up his hands. "Hey, how was I supposed to know? And why do you know all this? If you ask me, you're the one who's been acting fishy. I've never seen a magician who could dish out spells like that before."

Xelha made to reply, but a blast of wind from above knocked them both flat. A great ship hovered over the trees, tearing at the canopy with the wake of its engine. Kalas caught sight of its familiar white underbelly and Imperial brass plating.

"Giacomo!" he snarled. As soon as he spoke, the man himself appeared as if summoned, flanked by several Imperial soldiers. His black armor and helmet, crowned at its peak with tufts of vibrant blue plumage, clasped against his thick musculature made him a formidable sight. A red cloak, adorned with the Empire's coat of arms, flowed from shoulder-plates of brown feathers plucked from a slain desert hawk. The calculating eyes that gazed coldly from either side of a gold-lined beak marked him as worthy of his reputation as a raptor of the skies.

Kalas struggled to stand as the man approached Xelha. "You!"

Giacomo ignored him, focusing instead on the frightened young woman at his boots. "Girl, you will return what you have stolen."

Xelha bolted to her feet. A soldier caught her by the arms before she could unfurl her wings to flee. She wrestled against him in vain as the rest of the squadron aimed their guns at her forehead. "No! Let me go!"

One of the soldiers rammed the butt of his gun against her jaw. A trickle of blood oozed past her lips and down her chin as she bit into her tongue.

_Xelha!_

Kalas shot upright in his rage. Once again he saw something of his brother in this strange girl he still had yet to trust, and yet felt the sudden need to protect. To see her gentle face battered by the same monsters who killed his family was more than he could stand.

"Get away from her!" he shouted, and lunged at the soldier who had struck Xelha. Before he could reach them, something crashed against the back of his skull. He fell unconscious with Xelha's cries and the sound of Giacomo's laughter ringing in his ears.

… … …

_Hey Kal? Kal? Oh man..._

Kalas awoke to a rubbery bulbous face nuzzling against him. It squeaked as he stirred.

"Ow, my head...not again...Hey Meemai. It's just not my day, is it?"

He stood up, rubbing his head. "They caught me off guard. Looks like they took that shining magnus too."

_Yeah, just what the hell was that thing? It...gave me the creeps. I dunno, I didn't like it. I think I saw some things when you touched it, and it freaked me out. It was a lake or something, but it had blood in it...and some floating stones. Then there was this voice...I think I've heard it before, but I can't remember whose it was._

But Kalas wasn't listening. "I can't believe how lucky I am, though...to find him here of all places."

_What? Of course he's here. I thought we came here because we heard that Lord Rodolfo would be meeting with the Imperial general in the Emperor's stead or something._

"Where'd you hear that? I thought you couldn't remember anything."

_I don't remember certain things...or maybe what I think I remember is all jumbled..._

"Probably." replied Kalas. He cast a distracted glance at the trees. "Giacomo..." he muttered, "The man who killed my grandfather, and Fee..."

_We'll get 'im, Kal. Don't worry._

Kalas bared his teeth. A fiery knot formed in his gut. "That's right, I'll get you Giacomo! I'll tear you to pieces! I'll make you pay for everything you've done!"

_...Hey, I know this isn't the best of times to bring this up, but..._

Kalas glowered at the sky.

"If you're going to mention Xelha...Well, she's on her own as far as I'm concerned. I've got a score to settle, and it's not my fault she's on the Empire's bad side. We should go back to the village and find out where the ship went. I bet someone had to have seen it."

_Sure. If you insist._

"Look, if we run into her and if it isn't a hassle, we'll help her, alright?"

By the silence, he could tell Horatio was satisfied. Meemai squeaked urgently at him.

"Huh? What is it Meemai? You wanna come with me?"

The greythorne squeaked an affirmative.

"Alright, alright. You saved my life after all." Kalas smiled. "Here, jump in my cape."

He knelt down as Meemai hopped toward him and shrank to about the size of an apple before leaping into the collar of Kalas's cape. The little creature nuzzled against the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

"Comfy? Alright, let's go see what we can find out at the village."

… … …

Xelha huddled against the iron wall of the brig aboard Giacomo's ship, the Goldoba. The soldiers had finally left her be at the captain's orders, but not before they had given her a thrashing for her disobedience.

She shifted to avoid leaning on her bad arm; through a tear in her sleeve, she could see it was deeply bruised, the purple splotch stretching up to her shoulder. The rest of her probably looked no better. If she could just remove the rope they had tied her hands with, she would be able to heal herself in an instant.

Maybe they would kill her, but then they couldn't. In times like these, destiny would give her hope instead of sorrow, as what was foreordained meant that she couldn't die here. And though she might suffer, she was never truly in danger. For once, she hoped that everything she knew about fate was true.

At least they don't have it, she thought as she glanced down at the glittering shard of rock tucked against her chest, and at least there's still Kalas.

She lingered on his name for a while, and on the memory of his face—so bitter, and so painfully alone, even with a Spirit to keep him company. There was so much darkness in his gaze, as much as was in the golden magnus which had reacted to him so violently.

Xelha sighed and idly wished she could stop the blood that ran down her head and into her eyes.


	6. So Long

_Note: Yeah, it's been a while. School sucks like that. So anyway, in the game there's a girl who seems to live with Larikush, so I'm assuming she's his niece or something, since her being his daughter would be somewhat problematic. Unless he just has a really young-looking wife. Maybe she's his assistant, but I'm just going to assume that she's a relative in some way. Also, I've gone back and edited some of the earlier chapters, mostly for language. I'm going to England in two days, so I won't have time to update this again for a little while, assuming I don't finish the next chapter between today and tomorrow._

When Kalas arrived that evening at the gates of Cebalrai, he found Larikush waiting for him just beyond the entrance. The doctor's eyes lay fixed on the path, staring deep into some grave thought. He and Kalas stood nearly toe-to-toe before he noticed the young man.

"Kalas!" He barked as he shook himself free of his reverie. "I'm glad you are safe. It sounded like trouble was brewing over by the forest."

"Uh yeah, about that..." Kalas began.

Larikush cut him off. "Here, come talk with the village headman. Everyone's gathered at his place." He started toward a large hut near the village center, leaving Kalas to catch up.

_You think we pissed someone off?_

"I dunno." Kalas murmured. The streets were indeed empty, save for the children who jostled impatiently beneath the window of the hut. Kalas spotted Cedr among them. The boy shot him a stern look characteristic of certain adults as he and Larikush passed through the door.

The air inside the hut was stifling between the number of bodies packed against its walls and the blazing fire in the hearth, which cast the strange faces in sinister chiaroscuro. The low buzz of voices died at the sight of Kalas. All at once, the village elders were staring him down as he stood awkwardly at the threshold.

_Yeah, they're pissed. Let's get the hell outta here while we still have the chance._

"You're the one Meemai brought in this morning." The man who had spoken, the village mayor by the look of his more elaborate attire, stayed Kalas's feet with his statement.

"Was that a question?" Kalas said, meeting the mayor's eyes.

"You'd think one accident would be enough to keep you away from that forest, boy," the mayor continued, "Now tell us what happened. What have you done to make such a...shall we say ruckus, in our lands?"

"I didn't do anything! I'm not even sure what the heck it was. A strange monster came up from the spring in the forest. It was saying something about 'Malpercio' and..."

The mayor gaped at him, blood vessels filling his weathered cheeks with red. Two of the eldest villagers muttered darkly while the rest of the congregation looked on in confusion and unexplained dread.

"What was that? Did you say Malpercio?" The mayor gasped, fury building in his sunken eyes. "I knew something like this would happen! I thought we told you to stay away from that forest!"

"But, wait..." Kalas inched closer to the door, away from the suspicious glares bearing down on him.

"No more buts, young man!" the mayor growled, turning away from him. "You and your lot have unleashed a great evil! Ignorant fools...Now begone! You may stay the night...if anyone here is willing to offer you shelter...but by morning I want you out of here, understand?"

Kalas glanced at Larikush. Calm-faced, the doctor nodded at him in assurance.

"I believe the other travelers, a young girl among them, also entered the forest." Larikush said to the mayor. "Any news of them?"

_Well, at least you have someone on your side. You could've mentioned Xelha in the first place and gotten a lot of this off your shoulders..._

"Oh yeah...that girl, Xelha...she was with me too." Kalas replied, "We were attacked by soldiers in a big battleship...she was captured. Seems she was up to something..."

The mayor grunted, his back still on him.

"Hmm...unfavorable circumstances to say the least..." Larikush said in the mayor's stead. An odd expression flickered across his face. Kalas caught sight of it.

"Doc, do you know anything about that ship? I have to track it down.

Larikush paused a beat. "No, I'm afraid not," he said finally.

A woman near Kalas spoke. Kalas recognized her as Cedr's mother. "If you're talking about that huge, strange ship, I saw it fly towards the city."

"The city? That must be it. Thanks so much." Kalas smiled, doing his best to seem polite.

"Be careful Kalas," said Larikush. "Powerful entities seem to be at work...Stay alert, boy."

Kalas nodded. "Thanks doc, I will." Under his breath, he muttered"Alright, Horatio, let's go get 'em. You're mine, Giacomo."

"Oh, and Kalas," Larikush cut in. "You're welcome to stay the night at my home. I'll have my niece make up a cot for you to sleep in."

"Alright. Thanks again, doc."

The mayor glanced between Kalas and the doctor and scowled. "Don't worry," the doctor said to him, "I'll have him on his way by breakfast. If you don't mind my saying, he's only a boy—there's no need to be so harsh with him"

"Well if this 'boy' knew what he's done..." The mayor waved a dismissive hand at them. "Just get out of here, and try not to cause us any more trouble. This is a peaceful village, and I aim to keep it that way."

"Sure thing, sir," Kalas replied with an involuntary hint of irony. The doctor must have caught the faint sarcasm, for he snorted softly in amusement. Without another word, Kalas followed Larikush out the door.

Outside, dusk had all but fallen, casting the village in a bruised purple light. The shadowy vegetation writhed with winds from an incoming storm. Kalas felt his lungs tighten as they breathed the humid air that settled on his skin like warm oil, mixing with his sweat.

_That could've gone worse. _Horatio piped up as Larikush led the way back to his home.

"Yeah, well it could've gone better, too," Kalas muttered. "Hey Doc," he said in a louder voice, "How far's Pherkad from here?"

"Hmm...I'd say about a two-hour walk, if you can get through Nunki Valley. Otherwise, the alternate route through the forest might take up to three days or so, not to mention all the monsters you would have to deal with." said Larikush, "Right now, the Valley's been blocked off by a rockslide, but I have something that might help you with that problem."

"Like what?" Kalas asked. He quickened his pace to walk side by side with the old doctor. Larikush seemed much smaller now that he stood close enough to have a sense of his own height by comparison."You'd need Imperial explosives or something for that."

Of course," Larikush smiled slightly.

Kalas's eyebrows rose. "What? How'd you get ahold of those in a backwoods town like this?"

"That's not what's important right now...What's important is the impassable route to Pherkad."

"Oh, so this is a favor, huh?"

Larikush met his eyes for a moment with a look of amusement so paternal Kalas wasn't sure whether he should feel calmed or disconcerted by him. "If the rubble in Nunki Valley is not cleared away, the people of this village will continue inconvenienced." he pointed out firmly, but with the ghost of humor in his tone. "You're going to the capital anyway, so why not take care of that for your benefit and ours?"

"Besides you and a greythorne, I don't think I owe anyone here any favors, especially now." Kalas grumbled.

"Fair enough. Then do it for me. It'll be harder for me to obtain medical supplies while the Valley is in its present state."

"All right, doc. You saved my hide back there, anyway.

They had reached the doctor's hut, which lay at the back of the village, touching the border where the houses met untamed wilderness, eventually dropping off the edge of the island. A woman's face appeared in the candlelit window and watched them as they approached.

"Hello there," Larikush's niece said once the pair had stepped inside the hut. "You must be Kalas, the young man Uncle fixed up yesterday."

"Yeah." Kalas lacked the energy to force a smile, but something about the girl's pleasant face comforted him. She looked like his old friend Trill, he realized with a small jolt, except for her brown hair and the freckles that dotted her cheeks.

He waited for her to offer her name, but instead she asked, "How long have you been traveling on your own? I imagine it's an exciting thing to do. I wish I could."

Kalas blinked. "Two years," he replied without thinking.

The girl gave him an incredulous look. "Two years? Isn't your family worried sick about you?"

Larikush cleared his throat suddenly. "Now then, it's not polite to bombard our guest with questions."

But the look on Kalas's unguarded face gave the girl her answer. Her expression melted into a look of sadness and understanding that made Kalas's throat tighten. Without speaking, she rose and poured him a cup of tea from a pot on the stove while Larikush wandered over to his workbench and Kalas took a seat on one of the chairs. When she came back, she handed the steaming drink to him with a long look.

"Mine are gone too," she whispered, glancing over to make sure her uncle hadn't heard. "They died of the sickness that showed up in Mira long ago. Uncle took me with him when he decided to move here. He's all I have now."

"I don't have anyone," Kalas rasped. His own voice sounded alien to him, as if it came from the mouth of a worn grave rather than a human being. "They're all gone."

The girl offered him a sad smile, folding her hand over his in a gesture that belied her young age. "I'm so sorry to hear that, but you know, you need to keep your eyes open. I know there's someone in this world, someone who is waiting for you."

"How do you know? You've only just met me."

"I can tell. Sometimes I just know things, ever since I survived the sickness. There's someone who needs you, and you will come to need them too. That someone, somewhere in this world, is living day by day just as you are. Neither of you know how important you are to each other. Yet, in time you will come to know..."

Kalas looked grim. "It don't think that will happen to me. I don't want it to happen to me. No one ever lasts."

The girl's smile faded. "And that's why we cherish our loved ones even more—because they do not last. That which death can touch is more precious to us than that which it cannot, because death is something we all must face."

Kalas felt a spasm of pain in his gut. He wrenched his gaze away from hers to hide the expression of turmoil on his face. He waited until she left him before muttering, "I don't care what she says. It's not worth it." For some reason, his mind settled on the memory Xelha's bleeding face, staring at him with pain and desperation. It seemed too familiar...Too familiar...

_Kal?_

"What?"

_...Nevermind... You should get some sleep._

Kalas nodded and shuffled over to the spare bed. When dreams finally came upon him, he felt as though he were being swallowed by a heavy darkness.


End file.
